


Calming Troubled Waters

by MariePierre



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-05 14:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16369160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariePierre/pseuds/MariePierre
Summary: Craig is the leader of a seafaring group of young adults set on survival in a post-apocalyptic US. When they begin a trip to the northern coast of Maine they find something that could potentially change their withdrawn Captain. AU eventual Creek. Reboot and Repost from FF.net





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This fic contains graphic imagery and adult content, please read at your own discretion.

The sky darkened as thunder rumbled behind him, Craig held fast to the iron railings of his fishing vessel as he anxiously scanned the shoreline, wary of spying eyes that might be obscured by the dunes and shrubbery. Sour, brackish air whipped through the makeshift sails and over his face as he tapped his finger tensely against the cold metal, acutely aware of time running out before the storm hit. He had maybe an hour before the water would become too choppy to stay in the shallows.

He briefly turned his attention to the others on the boat who were struggling to pull crate traps out of the water. With a couple hearty _thuds_ , two crates were heaved over the bow, revealing several crabs trapped within them. One more to go.

“I got it! I got it! Pull me up!!!” a voice cried beyond Craig’s line of sight. Two people on deck began to pull a large rope, struggling greatly before a third and fourth person came to help.

“What the fuck Clyde! You heavy shit! You better have some crab in that trap!!” groaned Eric, a slightly overweight man with red cheeks. The group pulled a few more times before a hand grabbed the railings and pulled up Clyde who was grinning cheekily.

“Fuck you Eric! Look at this!” He announced hopping over the bow and helping haul the heavy crate aboard. The trap’s mesh was covered in various sorts of seaweed, woven together so tightly they looked as if part of the crate.

Craig watched Eric clench his jaw and his cheeks turn brighter.

“What do you mean, ‘look at this’, this is full of seaweed!!! I don’t see a god damned crab in there!”

“It’s still food, Eric, seaweed is edible you fucking moron,” Clyde replied, exasperated.

With the little time they had left to get out of the area safely, Craig needed them to focus. Before Eric had a chance to retort, Craig raised his voice.

“We leave, _NOW._ ”

Everyone aboard paused to look at him, caught off-guard by his uncharacteristically loud directive before scrambling to secure the crates to the deck and shift the sail to catch the wind. The boat lurched as the wind caught the sails and pulled them away from the shallows, allowing Craig to breathe easier for a moment.

Still tense, he thought about how long they’d been aboard this ship. About 4 years, he thought, which was nothing compared to how long he’d been living in this shithole… The world wasn’t always a wasteland, he used to have dinners with his family, watched red racer on Saturday mornings with a bowl of cereal, rode his bike to his friends’ houses. He didn’t notice things changing at first, but when the curfews were put in place, things began to spiral out of control…

Craig jolted back to reality as he felt the low-pressure system swallow them into the storm. The wind picked up and fat raindrops began to pelt across his face, prompting him to enter the wheelhouse on top of the main cabin. As he closed the door behind him, he slumped his body against the doorframe, taking a long breath inwards while closing his eyes. As he exhaled, he glanced over the area. He liked it up here. Much better than being in the main cabin with the others where it was cramped and loud. The windows stretched all the way around the room, granting him views of the boat in its entirety; he felt less trapped up here where he could see what was beyond the walls. This space suited him.

Being on a medium sized trawler with seven other people could be very difficult, there was really no way to spend time alone due to the confined quarters. This often caused tension between the crew, as personalities tended to clash. Craig was perfectly content to be alone in the wheelhouse; it wasn’t as though he disliked them, they were actually a decent crew of people, for the most part. There was Clyde, his best-friend and right-hand man, Eric, Wendy, Butters, Kenny, Stan, and Bebe. They had come together over time which allowed them to divvy up the work and streamline each process for efficiency. While it was trying at times, it was worth it having the others around.

Craig heard a knock on the hatch that led into the main cabin below.

As Craig knocked back, the metal hatch squeaked and opened to reveal Clyde’s shaggy head of hair pop through. “Hey man, we gotta check in”. ‘Checking in’ was never about something good. Craig felt the air become tense as Clyde took a seat at the table near the steering wheel. He could tell Clyde was anxious by the way he fidgeted, avoiding eye contact with him. “So, everything is all packed and ready to go…but we didn’t take in as much as we’d hoped…”

It felt like Craig’s whole body was frozen in place, afraid that if he were to falter even the slightest, the reality of their situation would crush him.

“How much?” Craig asked, bracing himself. Clyde continued to avoid his eyes, fidgeting more intensely.

“Out of the 8 traps we set, we got 7 small crabs and about 5lbs of seaweed…”

This was bad. It was barely enough food for the lot of them, and it meant that they would have to work harder in the next few days to make up for the loss. Their diminishing food stores were already on their last legs, which meant that their situation was far worse than he’d anticipated.

“When I was out there pulling up crates, the water was really dirty. I mean it was like 60ft from shore packed with trash and it smelled fucking awful. I’m worried about the crabs and seaweed we pulled from that, you know?”

Craig knew, he knew full well how far the polluted water had spread, the ribbons of trash in the tide could be seen for miles. He wasn’t exactly sure why it continued to saturate the inlets, but guessed it had to do with the currents’ path up the coast. He remembered things being particularly bad in city areas farther south. Regardless of where it was coming from, it was a huge problem, they could only stay here for so much longer.

“Now you know I’m no expert or anything, but I’m starting to think that the fish are moving farther out to avoid this shit, I don’t know man, why can’t we go farther out using rods and reels?” Clyde suggested, continuing to avoid eye contact.

“You know why,” Craig stated coldly. He watched Clyde’s shoulder wilt and his anxious fidgeting increase. He knew he was being cold, and deep down he understood that Clyde meant no harm. But even so, the wounds of loss were still too fresh, and Craig still couldn’t forgive Clyde or himself for trusting him. He couldn’t risk anyone else’s safety on this boat.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Clyde continued to fidget. Craig pinched the bridge of his nose before reaching for a map he had folded into neat squares. It was clearly worn, but well taken care of. He smoothed it gently over the wooden table and looked to their location. He had determined they were around Cape Cod by the landscape a while back and had been hanging around for a couple years due to the fair yield. However, with autumn approaching and the ocean rotting around them, it was time to move on. Craig eyed the map, following the jagged border of coastline north until he reached an area off the coast of Maine. If his gut was right, then the pollution wouldn’t be as bad farther north, the water hopefully colder and cleaner. He knew they would likely encounter worse conditions if they went south, they’d had plenty of experience in those areas before settling down on the Cape. It would not be easy going north, they would have to prepare for the cold among other things, but it may be their best shot at surviving the rest of the year.

“Here—” Craig said pointing at a spot on the map. Clyde snapped back to the present and looked over.

“Gulf of Maine? What’s there?”

“Our best shot. Get everyone ready for a supply run in the morning,” he replied dispassionately. Clyde nodded in acknowledgement, he had more questions to ask, but knew that Craig was finished with this conversation. Finally looking up at him, Clyde seemed to notice the dark circles under his eyes.

“You look like hell, you been sleeping ok?”

“Fine.”

“I’m just worried about you, you know? We used to be so close, just know that I’ve always got your back.”

Craig didn’t reply and instead continued to focus on the map, effectively killing the conversation. Dejectedly, Clyde took his leave, sparing one last look at him before closing the hatch.

It was better this way. There was too much responsibility on him to be anything less than what his crew needed. He feared that if the others got close enough that they’d see through him and see the crumbling mess he was on the inside. The last thing his crew needed was to be worrying about him.

Craig stood up and watched the water slosh over the deck as the waves grew more intense. It was hard to relax during a storm, this boat held their entire lives. They’d be forced to move ashore where they’d be vulnerable and exposed. He knew all too well what it was like on land, what lurked beyond the tree-line; animalistic people with more regard for guns than human life. Being at their mercy would be worse than death, that he knew for sure.

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning and sickening crack of thunder rattled the wheelhouse, sending Craig across the room.

_‘”—Craig, I don’t want to die—” Sobbing, fearful, dizzy, blood, blood, blood, **BLOOD** —'_

Craig furiously blinked his eyes and clutched his chest. His breath so quick he thought his heart might explode. His face felt hot and prickly with sweat beading on his brow. He tried to slow his breathing but dared not close his eyes. Bracing his body against the cabinets on the adjacent wall, he willed himself to choke back the sobs threatening to break through as he pushed the images away. He visualized a smoky glass jar, its contents swirling as he stuffed the pain deep inside out of view. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He used his fist to hit his head just hard enough to snap him back to reality.

Yeah, it was better this way.

 

* * *

 

Clyde made his way below deck where the others were huddled together for the storm. From the main cabin, the door in the back led into the engine room, which was connected to a hallway leading to the master bedroom and two guest bedrooms. As he entered the doorway to the master bedroom, all eyes rested expectantly on him. Clyde prepared himself to let them know what the plan was, but before he could get the first word out, Eric interrupted him.

“I don’t even know how you can stand talking to him, Clyde, he skeeves me the hell out.”

He knew Craig well enough to gather things weren’t right with him, and he was very cold and uninviting to the rest of the crew. Maybe Clyde was just used to it at this point, but he never felt _uncomfortable_ around him.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know about your delicate sensitivities,” Clyde mocked, “but I’m sure you all realize we have a serious food problem right now.”

“I’ve been keeping track of our food stores, and if we don’t start bringing in more to eat, then we aren’t going to last the next few weeks, let alone the winter,” said Wendy, a woman with pretty, long black hair.

“Yeah, and it’s not going to get any better with the water getting shittier by the day. The plan is to go farther north.”

There was a pause. Clyde knew that they would feel hesitant about going to a new area, they’d lived off these same waters for close to 2 years, it was familiar and safe.

“Exactly, _where_ are we going? And why north? Sounds like a shot in damn dark if you ask me. Are we going to graciously trot behind Craig’s every whim like good little sheep?” Eric spat. He was always the first to voice his displeasure on the boat. “This area has tons of places we haven’t explored because this boat is fucking huge! I’ll bet there are some places that are just crawling with crabs and mussels!”

Restless, a guy in a stained orange hoodie named Kenny spoke up, “Now I ain’t sayin’ I agree with Eric, but we got a good thing goin’ on here. We know where our supplies are on shore, we got a steady flow of diesel, and our food sitch ain’t _that_ bad,” he thoughtfully scratched his short, blond beard, “but, I think we should at least loot all we can ‘afore settin’ off somewhere new.”

Bebe, who was sitting next to Kenny, sidled up closer before saying, “I’m on the same page as Kenny, our equipment needs upgrading, I mean, not all of us have boots for god’s sake, we’re going to get frostbite!”

There was a collective shiver.

“I hear you guys, after the storm passes we’ll be making a supply run…Probably the last before we leave this area…Can everyone be on board for this?” Clyde asked, his eyes pleading for them to agree.

“I-I don’t know…” a meek voice stuttered.

“Thank you, Butters,” Eric praised, earning a tiny smile from Butters who timidly raised his head.

“I’m scared of leaving here t-to be honest with you all, like you guys said, it’s been nice being able to call this place home, what makes Craig think he has the right idea going up there?” Butters asked, his voice becoming surer of itself as he continued.

“Butters, it’s ok to be scared about moving on, hell, we’re all afraid here. But the water here isn’t giving us what we need anymore, I’m really sorry, but it’s time to move on,” Clyde said reassuringly. Butters was a very sweet guy, a bit naïve, but he truly meant well.

“Ok, I get it! But what makes us believe that butthole Craig knows what the hell he’s doing? We’ve been through this a hundred fucking times!” Eric groaned impatiently.

“Craig has always had our best interests in mind, which has shown through—”

“We’re really going to sit back and just _trust_ that he knows what to do? Admit it! He’s just as in the dark as we are! Why is he the one always calling the shots or taking advice from _retards_?!” Eric spat.

Clyde’s expression darkened, lips pressed into a thin line. Everyone else was uncomfortably silent.

“If there’s anyone you should be angry with, it’s me, don’t blame Craig because _I_ fucked up, that’s my cross to bear. Craig has put his life on the line for all of us, so many times,” He paused and swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, “we owe him for that, especially me… Make sure you’re ready in the morning.”

Leaving the tense atmosphere, Clyde made his way down the hall to his bedroom he shared with Kenny. But tonight, like most nights, he was off with Bebe, allowing him some time alone. As he laid down on the stiff mattress, memories of choking for air as salt water filled his nose and mouth flashed through his mind. He couldn’t stop replaying the image of his friend’s desperate eyes struggling to stay above water as he was being pulled towards the boat.

Clyde felt his face become wet with fat tears as he struggled to push the thoughts out of his head. He curled into a ball, holding his head, waiting for the dark room to swallow him into sleep.


	2. Debris

The storm died in the middle of the night and Craig was able to rest a few hours before he was woken by the chill of a foggy morning. The fog made things more dangerous, but they couldn’t delay the supply run any longer. He thought about who to take ashore, it would be a tight fit in the dinghy with all of the supplies they needed to get; he opted for just Clyde and Kenny who were most familiar with the salvage areas.

After Craig went through the motions of waking the crew, he prepared the blow-up dinghy and tossed it into the water below. Clyde and Kenny approached him from behind, holding a rucksack and a couple gas canisters. With a silent goodbye to the others, they carefully climbed into the boat below and started to paddle towards shore. Craig strained his eyes trying to see beyond the fog. Heart thumping anxiously, he hunted for human activity amongst the debris as they made their approach.

Boat settling atop the sand, Craig made a final visual sweep before motioning the other two onward. Clyde threw him a thumbs-up in return before slipping into the fog with Kenny. Craig’s job was to forage what was left of the beach plums that were ripe this time of year, a welcome deviation from their usual seafood diet. He hoped there would at least be a few basketfuls worth left to bring home.

Craig headed towards the dunes, concave and imposingly large, which protected the plums tucked behind the peaks. Using the long wispy grasses to steady himself, Craig made the precarious climb upwards. Reaching the top, he spied the blue-black fruits speckled amongst the shrubbery. He picked as much of the ripe fruit as he was able to find, filling his drawstring bag. He moved low and swift across the dune as he did, finishing his harvest at a drop-off into a hidden muddy channel exposed by the low tide.  

Something caught Craig’s eyes at that moment, a human shape prone in the mud. He immediately ducked, obscuring himself with the surrounding shrubbery. His jaw clenched as he peered through the grass at the shape. From this distance, he could just make out the shirtless man face down in the bank. He looked starved and half-dead, covered only by ragged, oversized jeans. Craig carefully made his way down the dune, circling around to the mouth of the channel, considering whether or not he should investigate further.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’d encountered another survivor in his travels, but he hesitated to venture further, thinking about what was at stake. If this was a baited trap then his whole crew could end up slaughtered. They could be overpowered by even a modest raiding party. Craig thumbed the 4-inch pocket knife in his jeans before deciding against the rational part of his brain to check out the body. If they were in trouble, he would help them.

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

Craig slid into the channel, his shoes sinking into the mud and filling with foul smelling water. The air reeked of low-tide and putrid waste, as shit from the ocean had been swept into the channel over the years, caked into the dirt and sand. He peered around a bend in the path bringing the body into view while keeping his distance  The body made for a wretched sight; seemingly motionless, its exposed skin was sallow and thin, stretched over each rib like plastic wrap. Best case scenario, they were on the brink of death. As Craig drew in closer, he readjusted the bag on his shoulder, dislodging a plum which splattered into the mud. The sound was far louder than he’d hoped, and the body violently recoiled to life.

“DON’T KILL ME! I—I DON’T WANT TO D-DIE!” the man shrieked, lurching his body backwards into the channel’s banks. He held his hands up in front of his body in a pitiful attempt to defend himself.

Craig instinctively held up his hands in a non-threatening manner, trying to use his eyes to tell the stranger to calm down. The man continued writhing in the muck, practically howling. Craig desperately tried to make eye contact and put a finger to his own lips, silently begging the stranger to be quiet.

Just as Craig thought it was time to take off, the man seemed to catch on and stared at him, his chest heaving.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but if you don’t shut up, someone else might.” Craig whispered harshly. The stranger clasped his hands to his mouth and his wide eyes frantically darted around. Craig cautiously moved closer to the stranger, maintaining his non-threatening posture. “Is there anyone else here?”

The man nodded vigorously as he trembled under Craig’s gaze.

Shit.

Craig’s heart pounded in his ears. He couldn’t afford to fumble around much longer with this guy if there were others in the area. He needed to warn Clyde and Kenny.

Suddenly, they both heard boot steps in the distance.

The icy dread that had been creeping through Craig’s veins became near panic as worst case scenarios seared through his brain. Kicking himself back to reality, he looked at the shell-shocked stranger and instinctively grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him towards the mouth of the channel.

The heavy muck weighed them down as they tried to run, so Craig threw both of their bodies behind the wet sandy bank of the channel to try and hide. He took a shaky breath before retrieving his bird whistle from below the collar of his shirt. He placed the metal between his lips and blew, using the instrument to flutter out a string of calls that resembled a cardinal. _‘Danger here’_ he signaled. Then he closed his eyes and listened intently for a reply. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as each moment passed, praying that his crew was ok.

After a few painfully long minutes, Craig heard the reply call he was listening for.

_‘Going back to the boat’_

Craig noticed he had been holding his breath and sharply exhaled with the realization that his crew was ok. He looked over at the stranger who still had a hand clasped around his mouth and was trembling under his grip. Half of his head was caked in mud, matting his wild blond hair. He looked like a distressed wild animal, anxious to scurry away if given the chance. Craig wondered where the hell this person came from.

Rough voices in the distance snapped him back to the present and he tightened his grip around the stranger’s wrist. _‘Run’_ he mouthed before taking off at full speed with the stranger in tow. His legs pushed them as fast as he could manage over the soft sand, their ankles twisting with each step. The voices behind them grew louder, yelling something that Craig could not make out. The fog made it difficult to see, but as they approached the water he could just about see Clyde and Kenny, throwing their bags into the dinghy. When they caught sight of Craig, they jumped into action, pushing the dinghy into the water. Craig yanked the stranger into the boat before helping push it into deeper water. Once the water was knee-deep, they hopped in and Kenny ripped the cord, blasting the engine to life.

The shore became obscured by the fog once more, and Craig took a moment to catch his breath, his mind still reeling from adrenaline. Kenny glanced over at him and then at the extra person in the dinghy.

“Friend a’ yours?”

The stranger cowered along  the edge of the boat, trying to avoid their gaze.

Craig shrugged his shoulders.

“What’s your name?” Clyde asked, but the stranger quietly sunk further into the dinghy. Kenny and Clyde exchanged a look before pulling their attention back to steering. Craig knew bringing  this stranger on board would cause tension back on the boat. Eric would almost certainly be the first to stir shit up.

As the trawler emerged from the fog, they saw Stan on deck tossing over a rope ladder for them. Kenny and Clyde climbed up first, hauling up their cargo, leaving Craig to guide the newcomer up on deck. The blond boy apprehensively grasped the rope before looking back at him, his eyes pleading for answers to unspoken questions. Craig stared back, before gesturing to climb up. After a few moments, they both slowly ascended to the deck where they were met by a mixture of worried and disgruntled eyes.

“Who the _fuck_ is this?!” Eric boomed. Clyde shielded the stranger from the outburst.

“Whoa, relax for a second, we just found him, his name is—uh...” Clyde glanced over his shoulder

The stranger’s body shook intensely, his eyes darting around, assaulted on all sides from the eyes of the crew. “M-my name is Tweek, y-you can call me Tweek,” his voice small and hoarse. Eric bee-lined towards Craig shoving an accusatory finger in his face.

“Why the _fuck_ did you come back here with this _skinny prick_ taking up the space of all the fucking supplies we need!! What the fuck happened?!!”   

Craig narrowed his eyes, piercing through the thick air. “He needed help. Problem?” Eric made an exaggerated stumble backwards.

“A _problem_?!! You don’t see a _problem_ with more mouths to feed, and fewer fucking supplies?!?! What the fuck’s gotten into you, huh??”

Craig glared at Eric, before dismissing the crew with a wave of his hand. Eric looked like his head would explode, a vein bulged over his temple and ears tomato red. Clyde approached from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder to motivate him to move. Eric ground his teeth before slapping Clyde away.

“Get the fuck off me,” He spat, turning away from Craig to hoist the sail.

Tweek sank into the deck, cradling himself while the others scrambled to their posts. Craig watched this unstable wreck of a man from the helm, uncertain of what to do with him, or of the circumstances that had caused him to end up face down in the channel.  

 

* * *

 

Clyde finished storing what they’d scavenged before making his way to the main cabin. He climbed up the stairs and opened the door to the others sitting quietly, some watching out of the window at Tweek. Stan turned to Clyde as he sat down in one of the chairs.

“So, what the hell happened out there?” Stan asked, stretching his arm behind his head.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m actually not sure. Me and Kenny were doing fine, things were pretty quiet. But I heard Craig signaling _‘danger’_ , so we hauled ass out of there. I never saw anyone, but there were voices when I saw Craig and Tweek running towards us”

He couldn’t admit that he was too scared to do anything else but escape.

“You have no idea where this guy came from then?”

“He looks like he’s been through hell…” Wendy said, interrupting the interrogation.

“Looks like a mental case to me,” Eric scowled. Bebe looked up at him, her face threatening.

“Since when do you get to be all high and mighty? We’ve all been through hell!” her face softened as she glanced out the window, “besides, he looks pretty cute.”

“Since when do I care what a _slut_ thinks about me?”

The air became thick and cold.

“You best watch what you fuckin’ say, man,” Kenny warned. Bebe looked like she had a mess of obscenities trapped in her throat.

“Eric, cut the shit and shut up!” Clyde shouted. He watched Eric’s face turn bright red.

“You know why I’m pissed off?!” Eric deflected. “Craig is a god damned idiot! I’d have left that asshole in the dust! We all know how bad our situation is, I’m not some fucking monster because I want to protect what we have!!!”

Clyde began to boil.

“You’re a selfish piece of shit! You know if it were you in his place that you’d pray someone found and helped you!”

“Selfish??! You’re fucking joking, right?! Everything I’ve been saying has been about taking care of _us_ , the people in _this. Fucking. Room_!! You want to talk selfish? How about when _you_ —”

“Enough!!! You’re way out of line Eric!” Wendy shouted, cutting Eric short. He immediately shut his mouth, his face still bright red. Wendy was probably the only person aboard that could put him in his place. He closed his eyes and took a calculated breath in through his nose before looking back at Clyde.

“You can’t just replace Kyle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter, due to some technical difficulties and going on vacation things were a bit delayed. Thank you to my beta who has been very supportive and pushes me to produce better content for you all to read. Please let me know what you all think, your feedback is greatly appreciated!


	3. Newcomer

Tweek could hear the shouting match inside the main cabin, the boat’s thick iron walls muffling their words but reverberating them through his chest. He was terrified to leave his fetal position on the deck, feeling the leader’ s eyes boring into him from the wheelhouse. The yelling ceased when the heavy door to the main cabin opened, and one of the men from the dinghy came towards him, sending Tweek into a panic. He’d be thrown off the side of this boat, he was sure of it. He had nothing of value to offer these people. But before the man even made it to him, a soft, lumpy object hit Tweek in the head. Panicked, Tweek turned to cower in front of his assailant, finding the leader towering over him.

“Can you work?” he rumbled.

“Christ, Craig you’re gonna scare the new kid half to death” retorted the other man, unpacking the thrown object to drape a blanket over Tweek’s shoulders. 

“Y-y-y-es” Tweek stammered out, trying to envelope himself in the thin blanket. He’d been frigid so long, he scrounged for any hint of warmth.

“Get him clothed and fed, Clyde, I don’t need a corpse on my ship”

Clyde’s eyes widened, “Great, I’ll get him set up in the spare cot—”

“He stays in the wheelhouse until further notice” Craig stated flatly.

“Why?”

Craig’s piercing blue eyes made Tweek feel small, like he would be swallowed into nothingness.

“I don’t trust him.”

Clyde helped Tweek to his feet before guiding him away

* * *

Clyde led Tweek into one of the storage rooms behind the the engine compartment, its contents neatly stacked and strapped to the walls. It was quite dark and cold, illuminated by a single rectangular window in the back. The darkness made the room feel small and claustrophobic. Clyde opened one of the plastic containers to reveal an array of clothing. He looked back at Tweek; the mud he’d been caked in earlier, now dry and cracked, fell off with each shiver that wracked his hauntingly thin frame. He looked absolutely wretched. Clyde tossed him a heavy knit maroon pullover and watched Tweek quickly put it on. 

“T-thanks,”

“Don’t mention it, it’s about supper time anyway, wanna help serve?”

Tweek nodded vigorously. The two boys carried several bundles of cloth containing dried salted fish, beach plums and a couple gallon jugs of water up to the main cabin. Before they entered, Clyde could hear voices through the door.

“This is fucking bullshit.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Fuck you,  _ ‘there’s nothing _ ’, this prick is—”

The voices hushed abruptly as Clyde turned the knob to open the door, Eric staring daggers at them as they entered. 

“Everyone, Tweek. Tweek, everyone. He’ll be staying with us”.

The crew came up to introduce themselves as Clyde and Tweek portioned out the food. Eric scowled from bench, as the crew came up to introduce themselves and collect their meals from the two boys.

It was uncomfortably quiet as they ate, and Clyde noticed Tweek fidgeting with his food.

“If you don’t like fish, then you’re going to have a hell of a time on this boat,” Bebe joked. Tweek looked up at her and then back at the food before suddenly stuffing as much as he could in his mouth.

“Whoa, take it easy, it’s not going anywhere!” Clyde said holding up his hand. But Tweek ignored him and continued to scarf down his food.

“So….. Tweek huh? Where’d you come from?” Bebe asked. Tweek paused, swallowing hard before timidly looking up.

“I’m n-not from around here, I don’t think. Where are we?” 

“We’re around Massachusetts and we’re headed towards Maine.”

“Oh jesus...oh f-f-fuck”

Everyone stopped to gape at Tweek aggressively rocking and holding his head. Bebe outstretched her hand to touch him on the shoulder, but he shrieked and jerked away.

“I’m s-s-sorry! I... I just don’t like t-t-to be touched...” 

Bebe gave him an apologetic look and withdrew her hand.

“It’s ok sweetie, don’t worry about it.”

“I take it you’re from pretty far away then? How did you end up here?” Clyde asked hesitantly. 

“ I was captured by the R-Rebels, or whatever they are, they burned my whole town down and took me prisoner. I-I-I-I don’t know how long it’s been, I don’t remember, I  _ CAN’T _ remember!” He began to pull at his hair “I was just a kid, I was just A  _ KID _ ! I had no choice, I wasn’t strong, why didn’t they just kill me and get it over with, WHY AM I EVEN ALIVE?!” 

“TWEEK!” Clyde shouted. Tweek hung his head, avoiding eye contact. “Hey, man, it’s alright, you’re safe here, they can’t hurt you now. They’re miles away.”

“But you don’t know that, you can’t POSSIBLY know that, there’s so m-m-many of them!! They’ll be looking for me. They  _ can’t _ find me, they’ll torture me!!” 

Clyde watched Tweek crumple into his knees, choking back sobs, as the others warily continued eating their meals. 

* * *

“Come on baby, let’s go get some air,” Bebe beckoned with a hand outstretched. Tweek looked up at her, her expression soft and inviting. He took her hand and she pulled him towards the door in the rear of the main cabin that led under deck, Kenny following closely behind. The metal staircase creaked as they hastily made their way down into the engine room. Tweek’s head felt swollen and throbbing, his eyes stinging with tears as he leaned against the metal frame. He roughly wiped his face, sniffling slightly, unable to meet Bebe’s gaze. “It’s alright, you can cry if you need to.”

Bebe’s words released a flood of emotion stuck in his throat, and he couldn't stop the tears streaming down his cheeks. They let him cry, his sobs deafened by the motor whirring.

Once Tweek could slow his breathing, the tears dried up and he raised his head. Bebe and Kenny had made themselves comfortable on the adjacent wall, waiting patiently for Tweek. He wasn’t used to this. His instincts told him that this was a trap, that this must be some kind of test.

“You alright?” she asked.

Tweek nodded, unsure of what to say. While they all sat in the engine room, the sound of clunking metal interrupted the rhythmic hum of the motor.

“Aw, hell!” Kenny groaned getting up to investigate. The motor shook violently before Kenny killed it, the echo of the engine fading into stillness. Kenny dangled over the side of the motor, before heaving himself into it, his upper half obscured by the beast. “God damn thing ain’t ever happy more than a few hours” 

After clattering around in the engine for a while, Kenny emerged, grease-stained, sweaty, and smiling. 

“Love, could you let Clyde know we oughta let this baby rest for the night?” Bebe smiled and hopped up the stairs, leaving Tweek and Kenny in the silence. Kenny retrieved a dingy rag from his oil stained jeans and wiped his face. “You ever do maintenance work like this before?”

Tweek felt frozen, just looking at the thing made his head spin.

“Ever even been  _ on _ a boat?”

He shook his head.

“Know now how to wipe your ass?” Kenny asked, slightly exasperated. 

Dejectedly sinking into his knees, the words  _ ’worthless’ _ and  _ ‘weak’ _ echoed through his head. Kenny sighed and scratched his short beard.

“How ‘bout fishin’? I know you got lots on your mind right now, but how’s ‘bout l teach you tomorrow? There’s somethin’ to be said ‘bout feelin’ useful.”

Tweek perked up.

“I need to beat this old girl back into shape, but you best get, n’ be rested for tomorrow.  Oh, the cap’n keeps the wheelhouse cold, talk to Bebe and she’ll get you the blanket from my cot, I haven’t been usin’ it much lately.” With a wink, Kenny clambered back into the engine.

Tweek felt the exhaustion clawing at his already sore eyelids and gratefully took his cue to leave. He cautiously made his way towards the wheelhouse, feeling uneasy about seeing the captain again.... 

 

Tweek lingered beneath the hatch to the wheelhouse with blanket in hand, his fingers unwilling to grasp the handle. The thought of being under the captain’s gaze sent anxiety swirling through his stomach.Those _cold_ , blue eyes. His hand trembled as he lay it on the cool metal, heart thumping wildly in his chest.

The hatch screeched as Tweek forced his way through the opening. It was so fucking dark up here, his eyes darted around the room, trying to discern which shadow was the captain.

Perched near the steering wheel, Tweek recognized the silent, sinister mass of Craig which slammed his heart into his throat. His instinct was to slink back into the main cabin, but knew that his place on the boat was painfully uncertain.

“Your bed is there.” Craig stated flatly, gesturing to a ratty futon laid unceremoniously on the floor. Tweek’s throat still blocked up, he hurriedly closed the hatch and dove under the blankets on the futon, trying to block out Craig’s presence. He screwed his eyes shut, but he could feel the captain behind him, scrutinizing his every move.

He realized as he nestled into the musty cushioning that he’d not slept in something resembling a bed in so long. Raw emotion swelled in his chest, pushing aside the anxiety rattling his brain. The reality that he was finally free cascaded through him as he planted his face firmly into the futon. The Captain could have chosen to leave him on the beach, he could have left him to freeze on the deck overnight, but instead he was fed, sheltered, and warm. He pulled the blanket tighter, for the first time in forever hopeful for what tomorrow would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support and patience! I realize this chapter is fairly short, but I am working on keeping chapters to be as long (or short) as they need to be. I will hopefully have the next chapter whipped into shape soon, but the chapters will keep coming. It has been difficult to coordinate with my editor due to time zone differences and work schedules so we are doing our best in the short times we have to speak to one another. The editing process takes up about half or so of the writing process. I hope you continue to enjoy reading! Comments and suggestions are highly encouraged, I love to hear your feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is a re-written version of my fic that I had originally posted on FF.net. Yes it has been a long fucking time since this has even been talked about, but I have been working steadily over the years on trying to make this fic the best version of itself that it can be. I have the entirety of the story written, but not finalized, so this will not be a dead end fic. I know I disappointed a lot of readers back when I first started writing this fic, and I am so sorry. I never wanted to be that fic writer that abandons a fic mid-way, but here we are. I hope to rectify this by posting this new version of the fic, one that I am proud of and want to share with you all. Please let me know your thoughts and if you have any suggestions for me. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beta who pushed me to re-post this fic. :)


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